A Different Life to Live
by Demontale
Summary: Rated for occasional cursing. The first page explains most this fic..all I'll tell you is that Rejal's the 'short of' main char. ;p
1. The Ramblings of a Writer and her Muse.....

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Introduction-thing consisting mostly of the Author [ Sam/Demontale ] and her Muse [ Ainmire ]. This is basically to let you know that the upcoming fanfic NEVER really happened, but is only a figment/dream of Rejalyn's imagination. Kays?  
  
Author: Alrighty, this concerns Rejalyn Athenlar as the main character.  
  
[ there is a pause that goes uninterrupted for a short while ]  
  
Muse: --AND??--  
  
Author: Oh yea! Heh..  
  
Muse: --You don't have an attention span disorder I don't know about, DO you?--  
  
Author: Heh.. Oh, gods no. I was just thinking. I tend to not TALK when I THINK. Otherwise I'd be thinking out loud, and you wouldn't want that, Ainey- Say, Rejal hasn't thought of a good nickname for you yet, has she?  
  
Muse: --'Fraid not.-- [ quickly changes subject back to original context ] --Anyhow..you were saying??--  
  
Author: Right.. Rejal is the main character here, for the most part, I guess. The other day when I was typing in my Deadjournal ( http://www.deadjournal.com/users/demontale/ ) I got off subject-  
  
Muse: -- [ gasps ] Imagine!!--  
  
Author: [ glares at Muse and makes a threatening hand-motion which with be left to the audience's imagination and continues ] - At which point I started talking about my cool grandmas (okay, well, one cool grandma, but I'll talk about the other cool grandma later, kays?). And then I said I hoped I'd be a cool grandma someday..and that got me thinking..  
  
Muse: -- [ gasps ] You?! Thinking?! On YOUR own?!--  
  
Author: [ makes yet another had motion, but stops midway and shrugs ] With some help from Ainmire here, who will soon get a nickname that will render him helpless when uttered... [ glares ] Anyhow..back on topic about cool grandmas.. I started thinking about what Rejal would have been like if she'd had a chance to marry and have a family of her own and have children and grandchildren.  
  
Muse: --THAT SCHIZOID? You're going to let her have a dream-fantasy-fic that actually lets her have offspring?! Goddess. . .don't let them near guns; if they do, may the Fates have mercy upon this earth.--  
  
Author: [ raises eyebrow ] You done?  
  
Muse: -- [ recoils ] I hate it when you do that.--  
  
Author: What? Arch my eyebrows? Why??  
  
Muse: [ laughs insipidly ] --Well. . .while your parentals may find it hilarious because YOU can't seem to do it right or look mildly serious, I find it rather odd looking. Which, whenever you. . .nevermind. . .I'll shut up while I'm ahead.--  
  
Author: You do that. . .good choice. ANYHOW. . .this is a TOTAL different lifetime. Inwhich Rejal never leaves Alahar in her damned days of youth, ends up marrying Tahlet (who never has to chase after her and thusly, never becomes a shapeshifter), ecetera ecetera.  
  
Muse: --You have such an. . ./odd/. . .way with words.--  
  
Author: Huh, and I /almost/ found /that/ flattering. . . Ah well, let's get on with it, eh?  
  
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	2. Family Intro

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Chapter One  
  
"Granny-lyn? Could you tell us a story? Puh-leeze??"  
  
I smiled as warmly as I could. 'Gods, another story?' my mind shrieked. 'Can they not tire from my false tales of adventure?'  
  
Little Athene, barely seven years of age, grinned smugly as she nestled in my lap. She knew what was coming.  
  
Is it not sad when children know how to break you, and even worse, know that they /will/ break you?  
  
My three grandchildren by way of my daughter, Sonia-Athenya, were excellent at such mind games. My son's, Arion's, two daughters seemed slightly more respectant of their old grandparents.  
  
Sonia-Athenya, my youngest child, more oft known as Sone, smiled apologetically to her father and I. I did not care if her kids acted like brats now, so long as they got it out of their systems very soon. Never had I been highly tolerant or patient. . .except when it came to those I loved. I could put off eternity for the young ones.  
  
Sone had married another Greecian lad called Nikolos. They had been happily together since the day they married and had 3 children between them.  
  
Their eldest was going-on-12-years. Sharon, who had inherited her mother's and my brown hair, and her grandfather's gray eyes. Often called princess, there is no doubt she dreams one day of ruling Alahar. It is a shame for her, though, because Arion's son is first in line, then should he marry & have offspring they would take his place or Arion's daughter would be next in line.  
  
Ten-year-old Tibalt, like his sister, Sharon, had thick, brown hair. Taking after his sister, he can act like a pompous prince at times, but I find it makes him more interesting at such times. Books would waste his intellect, his mother says.  
  
Sone's youngest daughter is seven-year-old "Little" Athene. She's the small, shy, blond who was snuggling in my lap, mimicking the several cats I kept. Rarely did Athene talk or ask for anything. She would mostly do things herself, and enjoyed being alone or hearing stories.  
  
Arion married a free-spirited, fiery, Irish maid known as Cadhla. At first Cadhla and I had had our arguments; she had been a radical to the ways of the Roiyahl lifestyle, but eventually Arion coaxed her gently into it. And then, shortly after the birth of her second child, dear, sweet, pretty Cadhla died.  
  
When Cadhla died, it almost felt like a part of myself vanished from this plane as well.  
  
Fourteen-year-old Liam had his father's unkept hairstyle, but had my brown hair color and his grandfather's eye shape. He had Tahlet's gray eyes as well. Liam is the most mature and responsible of the children, in my eyes. He took his mother's death the hardest, I believe. He barely speaks to anyone but myself and Callidora. It almost as if he blames Arion for his mother's death, which he /should not/.  
  
Callidora was 2 years old when her mother passed on. She inherited her mother's undying beauty and her mother's green eyes. At age eleven, now, I would say she was almost a mirror image if not for her age, and if she did not have a mixed hair color, red with brown/blond streaks.  
  
Once again, Tibalt looked to me with his pleading eyes. "Please, Granny-lyn? Tell us a story? Pleeze?"  
  
I smiled as much as I possibly could. The children loved my stories, but I despised them. I dreamed them up in my sleep, they were never real stories. Often I had a sense of living them myself, but I knew as soon as I awoke that they were not real. Only figments of my imagination.  
  
I sighed, resigning from not answering, and gave in. "Alright. One last story. What do you want to hear about?"  
  
I saw my son's face twitch. He knew how much I did not want to bend unto their wills, but I could not fight anymore. I coddled the children.  
  
Sharon looked thoughtful. "A beautiful princess in a charming kingdom?"  
  
"A group of warriors adventuring through the dark depths of the earth!"  
  
"Can you tell about some mythical creatures, Granny-lyn?"  
  
I gazed to Liam and Callidora. "Any requests?"  
  
Callidora paused. "Could it have a happy ending?"  
  
I thought momentarily, then looked to Liam.  
  
He shrugged apathetically.  
  
"Come now, Liam," I said. "Tell me what you would like to hear about, please."  
  
The boy still did not answer. I smiled sympathetically. "Alright then, I suppose. I will throw in all those elements to the best of my ability. However, the princess cannot be truly beautiful because she will not live her dream. The warriors will consist of a group no larger than five. There will be only two creatures, and I can assure you they are no more 'myths' than you or I. And, as for the ending, it is up to you to use your imaginations."  
  
The grandkids drew nearer. I took a deep breath, remembering the elements to the dream, and began.  
  
"Not so long ago lived a fair princess in an old kingdom she was destined to rule. But this princess was unhappy. Things were going downhill. He whom she was destined to marry only thought he loved her, but in truth, his feelings were only there because it was decreed by law.  
  
"One day, this princess came to a decision. She would run away from her kingdom, leave it all behind her. Early one morn she stole out of the great doors of the palace and slipped past the mighty fence. Then she was alone.  
  
"She wandered for one full day, stopping only to snack and rest for a short while. Whilst she slept, the princess was awakened by the sound of great pain. A deathly roar of anguish cried out and she jumped from her slumber. When she gazed around she was surprised to see a mighty dragon limping toward her."  
  
A small gasp arose from Little Athene.  
  
"The dragon lumbered nearer and nearer. 'Twas too dark for the princess to tell of what species it was. However, she soon realized on her own, without the light of the heavens. The dragon's breath crackled with every inhale and exhale taken; his smoke tickled the princess's chin and fluttered in her hair. A red dragon, aye. One of the most troublesome, some of said. The red was just about to snap at her when another roar met his.  
  
"Another dragon soared through the sky. It was a small creature, almost half that of the red. But 'twas not size that mattered. What mattered was that this red was injured, and while his breath may have fended off the oncoming drake, he didn't want to have to deal with being killed or injured worse so close to his home and having his caves later plundered. The red wandered off quickly.  
  
"The second dragon landed, and the princess saw it was a friendly-seeming blue. Before the blue could speak, however, a challenge rang through the air: 'Dragon! Let yon girl remain in peace! Touch nor harm not a hair upon her fair face! Should you do so, you shall feel the wrath of the sword!'"  
  
"A search party from the princess's kingdom had been sent out after her. They had found her with little trouble, and after such an easy trek, they felt it would be no hard feat to fight a blue dragon. The blue dragon backed away, and after a second glance form the princess to the small army, he took off.  
  
"The party collected the princess and her few items, and she was carried back to her home on horseback, where--"  
  
Sone interrupted me. "Mother, I'm sorry to cut your story short, but Nikolos and I really have to leave now."  
  
Tibalt moaned. "Mama! I wanna hear the story!"  
  
Sonya-Athene eyed her son. "You get your coat. Your sisters listen to me, see them? Be good like them and get your coat. Now."  
  
Arion smiled gently as he regarded his own children. I knew he was judging Sone's children. His were so much better behaved it was hard not to judge her offspring by using his as good examples. Love was supposed to stop that. "Well," he finally said. "Liam, Calli, and I should be leaving as well, Mom. Lots of business to attend to back inside Alahar's walls, you know."  
  
I nodded, glad I didn't have to continue with the tale. My throat was dry and it was getting late.  
  
Neither Sone's family or Arion and his kids had long goodbyes. They simply said it and went out the door, promising to be back next weekend to visit. Arion's goodbye was six words longer than anyone else's: "Love you, Dad. Love you, Mom."  
  
A mother yearns to hear those words from her kids. From anyone, really. I would sleep easily.  
  
Tahlet turned to me. "You know, dear, we really shoul have stayed inside Alahar."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"For one thing, we'd have had protection against raiders. Anyone or anything could easily break down this shack-"  
  
"I love our cottage.."  
  
"And we'd have been closer to our loved ones."  
  
I couldn't argue with that. Tahlet watched as I tried to think of a reply to drown out his arguement. After a minute he put an end to it and changed the subject: "Come on, my beloved wife. Let us get some rest after this long day. Tell me, where did this eve's story come from?"  
  
"Oh, I dreamed something like it once," I said as I crawled into the bed Tahlet and I shared. Slowly I nestled down under the covers and turned onto my left side, facing my husband. He always started out sleeping on his back, but eventually during the night he would turn over onto his right side and we would wake up facing each other.  
  
I pulled the covers close to my chin. It was a cold night, unusual for late spring. An uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine as my eyes closed. 


End file.
